


Breathing Your Air

by Piper_Emerald



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bakery AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Keith learning to bond with people, Learning to deal with greif, Loss, M/M, Mentions of past Shiro/Allura - Freeform, Past Character Death, Pidge and Hunk being good friends, Recovery, flower shop au, klance, mentions of past shiro/adam, relationships are complicated, tw: PTSD, tw: depression, tw: substance abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-07-20 23:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16147424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piper_Emerald/pseuds/Piper_Emerald
Summary: Keith’s world fell apart and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to pick up the broke pieces of the person he used to be. He doesn’t know how to fight the past from dragging what's left of him down, or if it's ever worth fighting at all. And he really doesn’t know why Lance McClain just so happened to fall back into his life right now, or why being around this boy is somehow making everything a little bit easier to bear.





	1. Chapter 1

Keith was slowly getting better at not scaring away every customer who walked into his mother’s bakery. He didn’t do it on purpose. It wasn’t like he meant for his face to look like he was scowling over every happy person that wandered in. What did that say about him if he couldn’t even look pleasant in front of strangers?

This was why it was a bad idea of have in at the register, but his mother was in the back right now making sure the next batch of muffins didn’t burn. He was starting to wonder if they were ever going to stop being short handed. The only reason he’d taken the job was because he knew that she was pulling her hair out trying to keep things afloat. Well, he had a feeling if he hadn’t she would have made him anyway. She didn’t seem to like the idea of him sitting alone in their apartment all day.

They were living together. This was the first time they’d ever lived together. It should be weird to think that. It should be weird, and awkward, and nice, but there was too much shit going on for them to get that kind of stuff. She was trying, though. He could see that. He appreciated that. He just didn’t know how to say it without the world closing in around them.

The bell at the door pulled Keith out of his thoughts. He was supposed to greet the customers that came in from behind the counter, but he never knew how to do that without sounding uncomfortable. Still, he was about to mutter some sort of “how can I help you” when his eyes landed on a familiar choppy brown hair cut and battered green jacket.

“Keith?” The boy—well, he couldn’t be more than a year younger than Keith considering they had been in the same grade—apparently recognized him immediately as well. “Keith Kogan?”

That was all Keith needed to be certain. Against all odds, Lance Mcclain had found his way into Keith’s mother’s bakery. Lance and Keith had gone to the same high school back before Keith had to move half way through his junior year. Foster homes had been fun.

They hadn’t been friends. Keith would definitely not call their relationship that. Maybe rivals was the best term. Lance had been the sort of kid to like competition, especially when it wasn’t called for. Back in high school Keith hadn’t liked to bother with other people, but when Lance had made it clear he was going to but into him at every turn, Keith had bit back.

He hadn’t hated Lance, but he’d been an irritation. When Keith moved away, he’d figured that was the end of that. Now Lance was standing in front of him gapping as if he’d seen a ghost, and Keith couldn’t repress the urge to mess with that.

“Do I know you?” He asked.

Lance blinked at him. Keith watched bewilderment turn into annoyance then into offense. He hadn’t changed a bit.

“You’re joking,” Lance sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of that than call out Keith. “It’s me, Lance.”

“Right,” Keith drew out the word. “What can I get you, Lance?”

“Come on!” Lance all but shouted. “You remember me! We were rivals for like two years.”

“Sorry,” Keith made his voice as unsure as he could. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You are such a jerk,” Lance groaned.

“Are you gonna buy something or just yell at me?” Keith asked him.

“I’m buying, don’t freak out,” Lance muttered. Keith watched him stick his hands in his pockets and look over the pastries in the counter between them. “I know you’re just messing with me.”

“I’m not,” Keith stated.

“Whatever,” Lance let out a completely over dramatic sigh. “How much are the brownies?”

“Two fifty,” Keith answered.

Lance riffled through his pockets for a bit before producing three very crumpled dollar bills. He really hadn’t changed. If Keith wasn’t determined not to break his act, he might have teased him about that. Without saying anything, Keith took the bills and gave Lance his change. He took the bigger brownie from the display because he wasn’t that much of an ass and handed it to Lance.

“Thanks,” Lance looked like he wanted to say something else but couldn’t find the words.

“See you,” Keith said casually.

Lance glanced back at him as he was walking out the door. Keith waited until he was long gone before letting the smirk form on his face. He had no idea messing with someone he hadn’t thought about in ages could be so much fun. He didn’t want to think about what that said about his life.

* * *

His mother was trying to make dinner. The keyword was trying. Keith was pretty sure they were going to burn down the entire building, and since they lived above the bakery that meant not only would their living quarters be up in smoke but their lively hood as well. She was slowly getting more and more frustrated, and Keith couldn’t help the smile forming on his face.

“It’s official,” he made his voice as serious as he could. “You’re only good at making pastries and cakes.”

He was joking, but it was true. If it didn’t have sugar she was useless. She laughed along, probably because there was no point arguing that. They were slowly getting more moments like this—moments where they were almost a normal mother an son. It almost didn’t feel right for them. Anything normal didn’t feel right for Keith.

“Here,” he stood up from where he’d been sitting at the kitchen table. “I’ll take over.”

“No, it’s fine,” she tried to brush him off. “I got it.”

“Mom,” Keith looked her in the eyes. “I don’t want to die tonight. Be it from food poisoning or you setting the kitchen on fire.”

“Fair point,” she handed him the pan.

Keith quickly turned the heat down. She hadn’t burnt anything too badly yet, he could probably still make this taste good. There was a cook book opened on the counter, but he didn’t need it. Keith knew how to cook. After years of shitty foster food Shiro had made it his business to teach Keith how to live instead of just surviving.

That was how Shiro had put it. Sure, Keith had already known how to make a sandwich and what brand off frozen food to buy, but Shiro liked to go a step farther. He said there was no point in not enjoying things. Life was short after all. Boy did that ring harshly true.

Keith remembered Shiro cooking. It was pretty much a daily occurrence in their flat. He’d play music in the kitchen. It was always so loud that Keith thought they were going to get noise complaints, but the neighbors liked Shiro too much to get him in trouble. He’d had this stupid silly apron with bright stripes that he insisted on wearing even though he never spilt anything on himself.

When Allura came over, he’d try to impress her. She would sit at the table and laugh as Shiro danced around the kitchen, music playing inthe background and Keith following behind him and trying to help. On those days there would aways be moments where Shiro would turn and wink at him with that ridiculous grin on his face, because somehow he knew that this was what Keith had always secretly wanted. Sometimes the three of them were a family.

Keith’s arm was burning.

He snapped back to focus, staggering backwards in time to see his mother quickly right the pot of boiling water. A thick, ugly red mark was forming on his arm. Gingerly he brushed his fingers against the already swelling skin. His mother turned off the stove.

“We have some aloe vera ointment in the bathroom,” she took his uninjured arm and pulled him along.

He didn’t had the energy to tell her he didn’t need the guidance. He sat on the closed toilet as she sifted through their medicine cabinet. They were always fully stocked. Keith wasn’t sure if that was perks of living with someone who knew of pretty much every kitchen related accident that could occur or perks of living with him.

He winced when she gently applied the cold ointment to the burn. At least she didn’t ask what happened this time. The question had stopped a while ago. She knew enough now. No conversation was going to make this better.

“Does it hurt?” She asked him.

“No,” he lied.

“You’re so much like your father,” she muttered.

Keith didn’t protest comments like this. A younger him wouldn’t have liked them. He would have been filled with resentment at her for thinking that they could pretend they were some sort of normal family, at his father for not being there, and maybe at himself for still wishing to change the past. Now he was okay with them. Now it made him feel a little bit less like an oddity.

They ended up ordering a pizza. The pots and pans lay forgotten on their stove along with the idea of having a regular home cooked meal. Keith didn’t mind take out. They didn’t bother getting plates and just ate over the box. Keith tried to ignore how his arm stung whenever he brushed it against the table.

“Is it getting bad again?” His mother asked softly.

He knew that this was coming.

“I’m fine,” he promised her.

That didn’t make her look any less worried. Keith kinda couldn’t bare the thought of her being worried because of him.

* * *

Keith didn’t go to sleep when all the lights in the apartment were off. He heard his mother washing the dishes that she’d refused his help with and not bothering to take a shower before she passed out in her bedroom. He waited until he was sure she was asleep before climbing out the window of the empty space the served as their living room to sit on the outdoor metal steps that alined the building.

He used the word sneaking, but it wasn’t like his mother would be all that surprised if she found him there. It wasn’t like he was hiding from her either, but he didn’t want her to spend anymore time that night worrying about him. Her trying to break down his walls wasn’t going to do either of them any good.

Keith wasn’t sure what about sitting alone outside helped him calm down. It certainly wasn’t the chill, but he had a solution to that. Smoothly he flicked his lighter and lit the cigarette in his mouth. Their landlord said he wasn’t supposed to smoke indoors.

He also didn’t like to smoke in front of his mother since she always got this sad look in her eyes when she saw him raise the flame to his lips. To her their was more than just nicotine rolled in the paper he was inhaling—here was all of the years she’d been absent from his life and everything that had happened afterward. There was enough regret and disappointment to drown out any relief that the blunt gave him.

That image wasn’t welcome right now. Keith came out here to breathe and pretend that he was doing anything other than procrastinating sleeping. It wasn’t that he thought he was going to have a nightmare. He didn’t stay awake in fear of dark and twisted images. Keith was scared he was going to have a good dream.

Because even after a year his subconscious hadn’t accepted what was dead and gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the first chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

Keith didn’t know what to think when Lance McClain stumbled into the bakery the next day. Well, bolted was probably a better word. It was pouring outside because the weather, much like Keith’s life, wasn’t content with not being as cliché as possible. Had Lance not come in the day before, Keith would have chalked him entering as just an attempted to escape the downpour, but this was Lance. Keith doubted that he reappearance was anything but deliberate. He just had no idea what motivated it.

When Lance walked in he waved at Keith but didn’t say anything. Keith didn’t say anything either. He wasn’t at the cash register at the moment and therefore didn’t have to play nice with the customers. The only reason he wasn’t in the back helping with the next batch of whatever his mother was making now was because he was supposed to be restocking the counter.

This was one of the rare times where they actually had enough people on staff. Lotor, the asshole his mother had hired because they were desperate, had an odd availability schedule so it was rare for him and Keith to both be working. Keith had a feeling Lotor liked that. He got the sense the guy didn’t care for him that much. That was fine, the feeling was mutual.

Keith watch Lance pick out a dozen donuts and then realize that he was short ten dollars and couldn’t pay for it. Lotor was ticked off—well, more than usual. Keith couldn’t help finding the entire situation incredibly entertaining.

This kid was a mess. Maybe almost as much of a mess as Keith was.

“Could I just get a brownie?” Lance asked sheepishly. His eyes were still on the box of donuts. All other their eyes were on the box of donuts as if they expected them to magically appear back in the display as if Lance had never made them go through the trouble of getting them out.

“Fine,” Lotor had given up trying to sound polite after Lance had empty the contents on his wallet in front of the cash register. This time Keith didn’t blame him.

“Wait,” Lance paused in thought for a moment. “Two brownies. And a blueberry muffin.”

“That’s going to be seventeen seventy-five,” Lotor stated, not moving to retrieve the pastries.

“Yeah,” Lance nodded, crumpling the twenty dollar bill in his hands. “I know.”

Keith took the box of donuts off the counter and began putting them back in the display as Lotor retrieved Lance’s real order and rang him up. Despite everything, Lance didn’t seem all that embraced. Keith almost admired that confidence. If it was confidence, Keith remembered more than a little bit of compensation from the Lance he’d used to know. Still, he’d never been the best at seeing through the masks of others.

“So,” Lance was looking at Keith. “How long have you been in town?”

“Not long,” Keith stated.

“Okay,” Lance brushed off the curt answer. “You move here to be a baker or…?”

“My mom owns the shop,” Keith informed him. “I’m working here for the time being.”

“Cool,” Lance nodded. He handed the twenty dollars over to Lotor and shoved his change in his pocket. “See ya!”

Keith watched him dive back into the downpour.

“Do you know him?” Lotor asked. Keith stopped himself from snickering at the distaste in his voice.

“I used to,” Keith shrugged. He didn’t just give short answers to people like Lance.

* * *

They closed the bakery earlier on Sunday nights. Lotor had already clocked out and left, so it was Keith’s job to deal with any customers who wandered in while his mother cleaned up for the night. Not a lot of people wandered in at night. Breakfast was as close as they ever got to a rush, the rest of the day was pretty stagnate. They were going to have to do something about that at some point. Or, Keith’s mother was going to have to. He’s just try to help and end up not doing much.

He wasn’t very surprised when Coran came in. He owned the flower shop next door, and they usually closed an hour before the bakery. When Coran visited them Keith knew it was rarely because he really wanted to buy anything. He did buy things, of course. He bought way more than he needed to considering the only reason he stopped in was to check and make sure that the world hadn’t crashed down around Keith and his mother.

“What’ll it be?” Keith asked.

He tried to sound a little bit less exhausted than he was. Coran ended up buying the dozen donuts that Lance hadn’t. Keith gave him a discount since he was practically family, even though Coran instead for Keith not to. Keith told him that it was his mother’s orders. That wasn’t a lie.

Coran stuck around as they closed up the shop. He sat at one of the two tables they had inside the bakery and started on the box of donuts. Keith hoped that he was going to bring the rest of them to the store with him the next day. Something about this man eating a whole box alone was a little bit too depressing for him to handle right now. Now that was ironic.

“How are things going over here?” Coran asked.

“Fine,” Keith stated then realized that he sounded colder than he meant to. Coran was just trying to make conversation. That used to be normal. Not that Keith was that close to Allura’s uncle, but they knew each other. Coran knew a lot about Keith. “How’s Allura doing?”

“Great,” Coran answered.

He went on to tell Keith about how Allura was doing in school, stopping every so often to pose a question directed toward how Keith was holding up. It felt stiff. It wasn’t like any conversation with Coran had ever been normal, but this was different. Keith almost felt like he was being observed—even if it was out of concern it was uncomfortable.

Sometimes it was hard to remind himself that everyone saw him differently now. Coran was so removed from everything that happened that he must have gotten a full view. It wasn’t his fault that it couldn’t hide that when he talked to Keith.

They were supposed to be done and heading upstairs by ten, but Keith accidentally knocked over one of the stupid fake plants and it took another half an hour to clean up the mess. All the while, Coran tried to convince them to just buy a real one next door already. Keith forgot that they were expanding their stock.

By the time they were done, all three of them seemed to be aware of how late it was. They didn’t live in a bad neighborhood, but it wasn’t a safe one either. Keith knew they were close to enough bars for their to be trouble if you weren’t careful.

“Let me walk you to your car,” he offered to Coran. The parking garage was only two blocks away, but Keith knew people could get mugged going a shorter distance and it wasn’t like Coran didn’t just scream easy target.

“I think I can manage,” Coran tried to brush him off. People didn’t like to accept Keith’s help anymore. He wondered if it was because it made them feel guilty.

“Please,” Keith insisted. He took the box of donuts from Coran’s hands. “Allura would kill me if she found out I didn’t.”

“Well, if it’ll stop her from committing murder,” Coran relented.

“Over this at least,” Keith shrugged. “I’m sure she has a whole list of other reasons.”

Coran and Keith’s mother each pretended to laugh at the joke. Keith appreciated that more than he would have a year ago.

It wasn’t as dark as it should be outside. Keith blamed that on the car and street lights. Someday he wanted to live away from the city. He had a feeling he’d do well in the middle of nowhere.

“How’s your mother?” Coran asked.

This was the second time he’d asked Keith this but the first time she had been in earshot. Keith knew that now he meant ‘how is she really?’ Keith wasn’t sure he had an answer. He wished he did. He wished that he could see through her walls as well as she could his.

“She’s getting by,” he said out loud.

“If anything happens and you two need help—”

“You’ll be the first person we come to,” Keith assured him. It wasn’t like they had any other friends. Keith kept that part to himself. “But we’re fine.”

“That’s good,” Coran stated.

Keith took the moment to change the subject. Sometimes it was easier to get Coran babbling about something that didn’t matter than to figure out what to do with the genuine concern. Keith never really knew what to do with concern. He wished that Coran voiced it to his other instead. She’d probably appreciate it more.

Once he’d successfully gotten Coran to the safety of his car, Keith met his mother in the apartment. They ate the leftover pizza because they were boring enough not to care that they were eating the same thing two nights in a row. At some point they were going to have to face the cooking problem, but the both of them were incredibly good at procrastination. Keith was pretty sure that ran in the family.

Keith didn’t go outside to smoke that night. He wasn’t sure if it was because he could breath clearer or because he was too exhausted to worry about the images sleep would give him.

* * *

_He was in the passenger seat of a car that had broken down years ago. The windows were open and the music from the car radio was spilling out of them. It mixed with the wind slapping Keith’s face. He was going to have to brush his hair after this or live with it being forever tangled._

_He could live with tangled hair if he got to feel like this._

_“I’m gonna have to stop for gas,” Shiro commented._

_He didn’t really need to say that out loud. He started talking because he wanted to easy into what he really had to say. He was opening the window and waiting for Keith to acknowledge that he had._

_“Okay.” Keith said because the wind was in his face and his senses were convinced he could already smell the beach even though they were still miles away. He was in too good of a mood to shrug Shiro off._

_“It’s okay to want to look for them,” Shiro wasn’t going to be subtle right now. Well, he did have Keith trapped in the car with him, so he couldn’t exactly avoid the conversation._

_The music didn’t drown out Keith’s sigh. Keith wished it did. He wished that the tiny shred of normalcy that was the two of them deciding to drive to the coast was could swallow him. He’d let himself be buried for one hour of being a regular teenager._

_“I don’t want to,” Keith told the closest person he had to family. “They left me.”_

_“I know,” Shiro sounded sad now. That wasn’t what Keith had intended. He closed his eyes._

_“Do you think they’re looking for me?” He didn’t want to know the answer to that, but he did. He really did._

_“I don’t know,” Shiro told him. “I think they were crazy to pass on the chance at being your parents.”_

_“Because that’s going great for you?” Keith joked._

_“It is,” Shiro said decidedly. “But I think surrogate older brother is a better term.”_

_“So you feel less to blame when I get in trouble,” Keith finished._

_“I didn’t raise you to break the rules,” Shiro faked a stern voice._

_Keith laughed. His laugh rang in the air. He listened to it fade as the wind swept it around. He listened to it not end like it was supposed to. Like it had. He listened to everything suddenly become to loud and warmed and grab him nay the throat._

_He frantically turned to Shiro. Shiro was saying something. He was still talking and Keith couldn’t hear him. Keith was screaming his name and trying to break through the mold the air was forming around him. It was pulling him away. Keith was fighting and flailing and the air wasn’t giving up. Shiro didn’t move. He didn’t see._

_Then Keith was ripped out of the car._

* * *

Keith woke up in a cold sweat. For a second he didn’t know why he was crying. Then he did and that didn’t make him feel any better.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time Keith saw Lance McClain, he was sitting on the stairs to the side door of the bakery. He usually spent his breaks in the alley connecting the two buildings. Smoking wasn’t allowed in the backroom, his mother didn’t want it to pollute the rest of the bakery. Keith didn’t mind. He didn’t dilute himself in thinking that this was fresh air—if anything he was the one ruining that—but he preferred to spend a little bit of his time outside.

He hadn’t bothered actually bringing a lunch with him on his lunch break. He hadn’t bother to have an appetite in months. He ate breakfast and dinner, that was enough to stop him from dying of hunger or having to deal with any other lack of food problems.

When Coran’s shop’s door opened, Keith didn’t expect to see his old high school rival wearing the uniform of the flower shop and holding a paper bag in his hand. Well, that at least made sense. It made the smallness of this stupid world a little bit creepier, but at least Lance wasn’t stalking him or something like that. Not that Keith could ever imagine Lance stalking anyone let alone doing a good job of it.

“Those things’ll kill you,” Lance commented before taking a sit across from Keith. He leaned his back on the dirty brick wall, waiting for some sort of snarky reply.

Keith didn’t tell him about rehab not having a lot of options when it came to weening yourself off of the harder shit. That was more of a retort than someone like Lance deserved to get slapped with. So instead Keith sort of just stared at him. He only realized that might have been worse when Lance was already rolling his eyes.

“So, am I banned from your store yet?” He asked.

“If it was up to Lotor, probably,” Keith stated.

“Yeah, he didn’t seem to like me,” Lance made a face.

“Don’t take it personally, he doesn’t like anyone.” Keith realized that this was a little bit too close to a normal conversation and added: “You’re also very unlikable.”

“Nice insult,” Lance rolled his eyes. “Really creative, Kogane.”

“Why do you remember my last name?” Keith made a face.

“Why don’t you remember me?” Lance asked back.

“You’re not dumb enough to think I was serious about that,” Keith rolled his eyes.

“I knew it!” Lance jumped to his feet. He literally stood up in the tiny alleyway and pumped his fist in the air. Keith just watched.

“You’re so extra,” Keith said out loud.

“People like extra,” Lance informed him, sitting back down. “It’s better than emo, or whatever you call what you’ve got going.”

“Nothing,” Keith stated. “I’ve got nothing going.”

Lance laughed. Keith didn’t know what he was supposed to say now. This was awkward, and Lance was just as annoying as he had always been, but he wasn’t talking to Keith like he was walking on eggshells. That was refreshing to say the least.

“Seriously,” Lance gave him a what Keith assumed was supposed to be a pointed look. “It’s been how many years and you haven’t gotten a different hair cut.”

“And?” Keith asked.

“And it looks bad,” Lance stated.

“At least I’m not obsessed with my looks,” Keith was starting to remember what it felt like to bicker with someone. This was surprisingly fun.

“Trust me, if you looked like me, you’d be obsessed to,” Lance said with a lofty air to his voice.

Keith just shook his head. He hadn’t realized it was possible for someone to stay so the same, but Lance was the exactly the kid who used to pester Keith non-stop. Keith wondered how he’s managed that. Everyone else Keith had known had the hard part of life crush their inner child, but Lance seemed untouched.

“Was this were you moved too?” Lance asked him. “Back when you had to transfer?”

“No,” Keith answered. He’d had to move a lot in his life, and a good handful of the times happened after high school. It was hard not to think of this as just another new temporary place. His life right now was suppose to be his foreseeable future. Not that this wasn’t the first time he’d been too hopeful to think that thought.

“You don’t talk a lot,” Lance observed. “Unless you’re being a dick.”

“You’re starting to get it,” Keith snarked.

He took a drag from the almost forgotten cigaret in his hand. Out of the corner of his eyes he was aware of Lance watching him, probably out of irritation considering they were sharing the same air. That was fair, but Keith had been here first. If Lance didn’t like being in the same place as him, he could just as easily go back inside.

“You working full time?” Lance asked.

Keith wasn’t sure at what point they had switched from insulting each other to an actual conversation. He didn’t know if he should blame his lack of social skills or his lack of an understanding of Lance McClain. He didn’t add that he also remembered Lance’s last name and really didn’t care if Lance knew his or not.

“Yeah,” Keith stated.

He watched Lance pull a sandwich out of the paper bag he’d brought with him and listened to him talk about working next door and random things that he seemed to deem important. Keith dodged most of the questioned aimed at him, but tolerated some of them. Lance was a lot more relaxed than most people were around him lately. Keith wasn’t going to admit how much he appreciated that. Talking to Lance didn’t make him feel normal—not at all—but it made him feel a little bit less different than the old him. That was nice.

* * *

The next day Lance offered Keith half of his sandwich. Well, offered probably was the loosest word for Keith to use since the boy had practically shoved the saran-wrapped triangle in to Kieth’s hands before making a comment about him needing to gain weight before he dissolved into thin air. Keith wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be feeling offended or flattered.

The sandwich was clearly hand made, which meant that Lance had actually gone through the trouble of making enough to split with Keith. Not that Keith thought Lance would admit putting that much thought into his actions. Still, because there was a clear effort made for some reason Keith didn’t understand, and because Lance might have a bit of a point of him needing to eat more, Keith accepted the food. He had to put his cigaret out in order to eat, and he had a sneaking suspicion that was also part of Lance’s plan.

Keith didn’t mind all that much. He still didn’t have an appetite, but he could stomach this easy enough. Lance seemed pleased with himself when Keith unwrapped the corner and took a bite.

“I guess it’s too late to worry about you poisoning me,” Keith remarked dryly.

“Too late to do anything about it,” Lance corrected. “You can worry all you want.”

“Is this tuna?” Keith asked.

“Yeah,” Lance sighed. “My roommates bought too much and we've gotta eat it before it goes bad.”

“You have a roommates?” Keith raised any eyebrow. “And you haven’t driven them to murdering you?”

“That might be why the sandwich is poisoned,” Lance quipped. “I never said it was meant for you.”

“Right,” Keith gave him an odd look.

“This is about when normal people laugh,” Lance informed him.

“I’m not normal,” Keith stated.

“No, you were always weird,” Lance informed him.

“So are you,” Keith replied. “At least I don’t attract as much attention.”

“I attract a lot of things,” Lance winked at him. Keith just shook his head. “So, where do you live?”

Keith pointed to the building above him.

“Guess that makes the commute easy,” Lance voiced.

“My mom’s been living here for a while,” Keith told him.

“And you haven’t been?” Lance raised an eyebrow.

Keith forgot how much he’d worked to keep his private life not on display during high school. Now he tried to, but things were different. Everyone he came into contact with seemed to know something about his past. Everyone but Lance, it seemed. Keith supposed that Lance and all the other students must have assumed that he was going home to something a little more complete than one of the long list of foster homes he’d spent his childhood in. Maybe he just seemed like the average emotionally distant kid to them. Then again, Lance had always known he wasn’t normal.

“It’s complicated,” Keith said out loud.

It wasn’t like he owed this guy answers, or that Lance was really asking for them for that matter. Lance didn’t know what he was getting himself into and Keith was going to keep it that way. This was simple, he was going to keep it that way.

“Okay,” Lance drew out the word. “Why do I get the feeling that’s your answer to a lot of things.”

“Because you’re weirdly perceptive,” Keith answered. “It’s annoying.”

“Only to you,” Lance informed him. “The girls go crazy over it.”

“What girls?” Keith actually let out a snicker.

“I’ll have you know there are plenty of ladies who want a piece of this,” Lance huffed.

“Sure,” Keith shook his head again.

The shared lunch breaks became a routine. Keith wasn’t sure at what point that they’d both decided that they wanted it to be, but every day when he went outside he found Lance waiting for him. Lance worked the same shift each day and Keith never really stopped working, so it was easy to make eating together a habit. Keith started bringing the pastries that had been messed up and they weren’t able to sell. In return Lance continued to share whatever odd lunch his roommates had influenced him into eating.

“It wasn’t my fault that you got caught!” Lance wasn’t really annoyed, Keith could tell he just liked to be dramatic.

He hadn’t meant for them to end up reminiscing high school and the trouble they’d both managed to find themselves in during those years, but an incident had seemed to force it’s way into the conversation. Keith remembered that incident clearly. A year ago, thinking of it might have even made him angry, but recently he’d been felling more and more detached from those kind of memories. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to argue back at Lance about it.

“If you weren’t so bad at cheating, they wouldn’t have noticed me.” Keith stuck to the thought pattern he’d held back when he was sixteen and being dragged to his deans office side by side with Lance.

“We were both cheating!” Lance exclaimed. “You can’t play high and mighty about it!”

“I’m not,” Keith crossed his arms. “I was just as guilty as you were, but they wouldn’t have caught me if they weren’t looking for someone else breaking the rules.”

“You don’t know that,” Lance muttered.

“Yeah, I do,” Keith said confidently. “That was not the first test I cheated on, but it was the first one you did too.”

“Man, I got in so much trouble over that,” Lance groaned. “My mom wouldn’t let me out of the house for weeks. What about you?”

“It was fine,” Keith stated. “It got smoothed over.”

“Wow, your mom is really chill,” Lance stated.

“She is.” Keith would probably have to explain some elements of his life to Lance at some point. For now it didn’t feel right. For now he liked being able to pretend that this side of him was his only side.

“I miss my family,” Lance sighed.

“You don’t visit them?” Keith asked.

“It’s a long drive,” Lance told him. “Plus I don’t want to go without something nice to tell them, you know. It’s like, if I’m out here living on my own I want to have something to show for it.”

“I don’t think it counts as living on your own if your roommate is the main reason you have a balanced nutrition,” Keith informed him.

“Close enough,” Lance shrugged.

“So you moved out,” Keith was still trying to get the tidbits of information Lance had dropped about his life to make sense. “To work?”

“School,” Lance answered. “Kinda. It’s hard to phrase. I mean, I’m in school, just not the right one yet. Money, you know?”

“For some reason I understood that,” Keith said dryly. “For someone who talks a lot, you’re kinda shit at talking.”

“That’s really funny coming from you,” Lance said back.

Keith let himself laugh this time.

They kept talking until they both needed to get back to work. They talked everyday, and Keith was pretty sure none of the topics ever mattered. It was nice. He liked having something so simple and casual in his life. Lance didn’t bring complications with him. Or, at least if he did, Keith couldn’t see them.


	4. Chapter 4

Keith wasn’t sure when the last time he’d actually gone inside of Coran’s flower shop was, but he was getting sick of the fake plants and if his mother wasn’t going to buy a real one then he was ready to take matters into his own hands. That and there was nothing for him to do in the bakery at the moment aside from bicker with Lotor over who was getting what of the contents of the tip jar. Keith honestly didn’t care, he just didn’t like the smug look Lotor got whenever he thought that he won an argument.

So he told his mother he’d be back soon and walked over with the contents of his last pay check in his wallet. Technically he probably could have used the store money since the plant was for the store, but he was feeling like being a good person. Plus, he barely used his own money on anything these days since his mom rarely let him pay for food and he hadn’t bought new clothes since he moved in with her.

When he walked in everything wasn’t exactly how he remembered, but it might as well have been. This place was never going to change in Keith’s mind. It didn’t matter how Coran changed the arrangement or who was behind the counter. The smell brought Keith back to when Shiro would drag him in here pretending that he was going to buy something when really he was just trying to hit on Allura without seeming weird or awkward. This f course resulted in both and the worse second hand embarrassment Keith had ever experienced.

This place meant laughing at jokes he didn’t think were funny, because he was just happy to be included in them. It meant getting bored to death looking at sunflowers waiting for Allura to get off of her shift. It meant never knowing how to navigate a conversation alone with either Allura or Coran, but trying because it meant something to Shiro.

It meant something to him too. This place meant joy, and acceptance, and an avoidance he still couldn’t bring himself to understand.

Keith hadn’t come in here since he’d moved in with his mother, even though this was the closest he’d ever been to it on a regular basis. He was pretty sure both Coran and his mother were aware of this. It was likely that the only reason it hadn’t come up was because it was one of the many things that his mother had opted to give him space on instead of pushing at the wound.

Keith appreciated that, he really did. But he wasn’t going to let her think that he was scared of a flower shop. He wasn’t that pathetic.

“Keith!” A voice he had not expected to hear exclaimed from across the room.

He turned to see Allura, wearing the brightly colored uniform he swore to God only someone as angelic as her could pull off. She grinned at him widely before pulling him into a hug. Keith usually didn’t like to touch people, but Allura was different. She was one of those people who’s contact could never feel abrasive.

Still, her arms were tighter than they had to be. Keith knew that was for her sake as well as his.

“I guess it’s summer, then?” Keith asked.

He didn’t pull out of the embrace, even though he knew that now she had to be fully aware how much weight he’d lost. He wondered if while she was away the image she’d mentally saved of him was still of the healthy boy who always went to the gym and never skipped out on meals. Well, there went his hope of keeping her from seeing the mess he’d become.

Not that he wasn’t certain Coran gave her weekly updates. Hell, his mother might be giving her details as well. He knew how much Allura worried. It was just hard for him to accept that sometimes.

“I just got back yesterday,” she finally released him from her arms, but stayed in his personal space. That was alright. It felt familiar, like they were back to where they used to be.

“And you’re working already?” Keith tried to laugh.

“I need money,” she shrugged. “And something to do. I heard you’re staying next door.”

“Yeah,” Keith nodded. “With my mom.”

“How’s she doing?” Allura asked. She made her voice neutral, but Keith knew that her feelings stretched far beyond that. They always did.

“Good,” Keith answered because he didn’t know what else to say. “I’m here to get a plant.”

“Well, I think we might sell those,” Allura joked.

“I broke the shitty ones we have next door,” Keith let her know. “We need a real one.”

“How to you break a fake plant?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Skill,” he deadpanned.

She let out a loud laugh. It sounded surprised, Keith couldn’t not notice that. She probably hadn’t expected the dry humor to have survived. In her defense, it almost hadn’t, but most of Keith was in one piece right now.

“I can help you find one,” she told him.

“A cheap one?” He asked.

“You think we sell anything else?” She asked with a smirk.

They went through most of the store. It didn’t take long for Keith to catch on to the fact that Allura was stalling. She wanted to keep him here longer, she wanted the light conversation they were making to last for more than just a handful of minutes. It was as if she didn’t know when the next time she was going to see him was. Keith couldn’t be offended by that. He let her draw the time out. The more they talked, the more she seemed to relax. It was almost like the past year hadn’t happened—like everything was normal again.

“What are you doing here?” Lance’s voice was even louder in the enclosed space. The surprise seemed genuine, as if the thought of Keith actually shopping in a flower shop was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“Trying to get you fired,” Keith replied. He knew he was a little too happy about coming up with the retort without a pause. He was getting better at that, and it wasn’t like hanging around Lance left him without practice.

“Is he bugging you?” Lance asked Allura with all the lack of charm expected from him.

“You two know each other,” Allura looked back and forth between the two of them, a frown on her face.

“You know him?” Lance’s eyes widened. Keith wasn’t sure if it was out of shock that Keith was actually capable of having friends, or embarrassment that he’d just made himself look like a prick in front of Allura.

“He likes to annoy me,” Keith said dryly to Allura before turning back to Lance. “I’m a customer right now, you can’t be a dick.”

“I’m not,” Lance sputtered.

Allura continued to help Keith select something that he wouldn’t be able to kill, although Lance insisted entrusting anything in Keith’s hands was a death sentence no matter how durable it was. Keith bickered back and Allura looked at a loss of how to get the both of them to shut up.

“What about that?” Keith pointed to a small shrub in a brown pot. At least he’d be able to carry it next door without looking too stupid.

“At least it’s shorter than you,” Lance commented. “Maybe it’ll boost your self esteem.”

“Shut up,” Keith turned to Allura. “I just need to water it right?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “And if you feel like you’re doing something wrong you can always have Coran check on it.”

“Okay,” Keith nodded. “I should probably just get it then, if I’m not back in the next five minutes my coworker is probably going to have a fit about me leaving him to do everything.”

“You should visit again,” Allura told him. “Even if it’s just to kill time.”

“Okay,” Keith said to her because he wasn’t sure what else he should say. “Yeah.”

Coran didn’t let him pay for the plant, insisting that it was a gift. Keith tried not to wonder if he would have done that a year ago. He’d once seen him make Allura pay for tissue paper that was only a dollar because he didn’t think special treatment was fair. Still, Keith didn’t make him take the money. If it made Coran and Allura feel a little bit better to give him and his mom a tiny shrub for free he’d let them have that. God knows they both deserved some peace of mind.

“Do you need help carrying it?” Lance asked him.

“I’m stronger than you,” Keith deadpanned.

“Yeah, right,” Lance scoffed. “You’re like skin and bones, dude.”

“I got it,” Keith told him.

“Okay,” Lance raised his arms in mock defeat. “Just trying to help.”

Keith didn’t drop the shrub in the process of carrying it next door. He decided that he would not tell Lance that he nearly did when trying to balance it in his arms and open the door at the same time. Then again, he could always blame Lotor for that since he’d refused to get the door for him.

* * *

Lance was different the next day. If Keith had to put a word to it, he’d say that Lance seemed subdued. The hot headed energy that Keith had always thought defined him was still there, but it was as if Lance was doing everything it could to push it down. It was fighting back, of course, because every bit of Lance knew how to fight back. So Keith watched Lance do his best to hide that he was about to explode.

It was awkward, and uncomfortable but so different than the usually kind of awkward and uncomfortable that defined their lunches together. Keith thought they had gotten past this weird tension. He wasn’t sure how or when, but he’d thought that they’d suddenly found some shared ground where they could both relax into something that some people might even call friendship.

Right now Lance wasn’t even making eye contact with him. Keith couldn’t believe he hadn’t managed to scoff out some sort of comment about the bad hair day Keith was having, or the fact that he’d only brought a half eaten muffin to eat. Instead he hadn’t said anything like that.

“What’s going on?” Keith finally asked, because he couldn’t just sit there and wait for Lance to figure out how to phrase whatever was wrong.

“What?” Lance’s gaze whipped to Keith’s far too quickly to be casual.

“Nothing,” Lance uttered. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine,” Keith said a little too harshly. “I said, what’s going on.”

“And I said nothing,” Lance retorted. The words didn’t have he usual sass behind it.

“Are you mad at me?” Keith had to ask. He let his voice be a little softer now. Why did he always have to react angrily to everything? Like that was actually going to make Lance want to tell him what was up.

“No,” Lance shook his head. “What would make you think that?”

“The fact that we’ve been sitting here for the past ten minutes and you won’t even look at me,” Keith replied. “Seriously, if you don’t want to be here, just leave.”

“I want to be here,” Lance pressed. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“Just what?” Keith asked.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lance uttered.

At first he wasn’t sure he’d heard Lance correctly. Then he thought maybe his mind had copy pasted the string of words he was used to hearing over and over again into Lance’s voice, because this kid didn’t know anything about last year or what Keith’s loss even meant. Then everything clicked. Keith felt numb. He always felt numb when shit like this happened.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been a dick to you,” Lance added. “I kinda just do that. I’ll assume everything’s the same for people that I used to know—or still know, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to show up and just bicker at you all the time. I didn’t know—”

“That’s because I didn’t tell you,” Keith heard his own voice but he didn’t remember choosing to speak. “I decided not to tell you because you didn’t have to know.”

“It’s none of my business, I know.” Lance thought he understood. He didn’t. “I just, I wouldn’t have been so rude or extra all the time, if I—”

“Why not?” Keith’s voice was louder that it should be. Somewhere he could recognize that. It didn’t meant that he was going to lower it. “Because I’m fucked up? Because I’m some broken kid that can’t handle being pushed around?”

“No,” Lance’s eyes were wider than they’d been before.

“Allura told you, didn’t she,” Keith’s mouth was bitter. “After I left.”

Lance just nodded. Keith hated how he was looking at him. He hated that this was all it took for whatever they’d built over the past few weeks to shatter. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t even like having a real friend, but it was more than Keith thought he was going to get right now. He hated that he wasn’t allowed that.

“You don’t know shit about me, okay?” Keith stood up. His break wasn’t over, and he could honestly use a cigaret now more than ever, but he wasn’t staying here.

Lance didn’t stop him from storming back into his mother’s cafe. Keith slammed the door behind him with all the rage and force he could muster. Then he felt every bit of strength seep out of him. It took his last shreds of energy to stop him form crumbling right there. He was better than that. Or at least he was supposed to be.

It took an hour and a lot of breathing for Keith’s mind to remind him that Lance really hadn’t meant to hurt him. Lance had been trying to do the right thing. Not that Keith gave much merit to “the right thing” anymore. Something akin to regret settled in his bones. It simmered inside of him, taking up all of his focus, and plaguing his ears with his own voice ringing in the alley.

Lance wasn’t there the next day. Keith figured that made sense. It wasn’t like he knew what he should say to him if he showed up anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

Keith caught Allura when she was leaving her shift at the flower shop. It figured that even after all this time she sill liked to keep the same hours. Keith couldn’t relate. It seemed like his life was always constantly getting rearranged yet she was able to pull an orders schedule from her mixed up days. He didn’t know if he envied her or hated the order. Well, he was mad right now, so it felt much more like the later.

“Hey,” he didn’t start out shouting.

It wasn’t because he was trying to control his anger. Not that he wasn’t, he always was and he always sucked at it. His anger was something that built to exploding. It always started quiet and then got so much worse. Allura knew him enough to recognize what was coming. At first she looked concerned. She wanted him to see that she looked concern, even if it was real—he knew it was—there was a part of her that wanted him to see her as the good person.

“What’s wrong?” Her eyebrows creased. Keith had seen that look before. It usually wasn’t being directed at him, but that didn’t make it any less familiar.

“You did not have the right to do that,” he spat.

They were standing by the backdoor of the flower shop. It wasn’t out in the open, but it wasn’t private either. He was aware of that. He was aware that people passing by might be able to hear them. He was aware that there might be eyes on him right now—and might was just as bad as knowing there was. That didn’t slow him down, though, He was too wound up. The ticking time bomb had no way to account for it’s surroundings.

“I’m not a fucking child,” he kept talking. She knew exactly what he was referring to. He could see that on her face.

“Keith,” her voice was patient, but it had a warning to it. That was familiar too.

“You know I finally had someone who didn’t treat me like a fucking china doll, and you ruined it,” he might have been shouting now. Maybe the build was shorter than it usually was. Did that mean the rope was getting shorter too?

“Lance can be insensitive sometimes,” she started. “I just wanted to make sure—”

“That he left me alone?” Keith scoffed. “Because you’re that great at protecting people?”

Allura flinched, but Keith didn’t care. It wasn’t fair for her to be the wounded one here. It wasn’t fair that she got the be the victim, and the bystander, and protector while he was only ever the carnage. Why was he broken and her whole? That wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

“Don’t give me that look,” he snapped. “You know it’s true. That’s what you always do. You barge in and then you saunter off and say you’re in the right because you can’t deal with the fucking aftermath, can you?”

“Keith, stop it!” She was crying now.

It was the tears that snapped Keith back to reality. Or maybe it wasn’t reality, not completely, but it was somewhere closer. It was somewhere that he was able to see the only person left who’d ever tried to be his friend crying because of him.

He said she ruined things. That was fucking rich coming from him.

This was all him and it always was. He always breaking everything. He was walkways hurting the people who tried to help him. He was always destroying everyone. He didn’t deserve them. He never did. He didn’t deserve Allura, or Lance, or his mom, or Shiro.

Shiro.

Keith took a step back. Everything was blurry and shaking, but he could stop his feet from crumbling under him for a little bit longer. He could hold himself together for another moment. So he ran. He ran because maybe that was the only thing he was ever good at. He liked to think that he stuck things out, but that wasn’t true. That could only be true if he never cracked and cracking was what Keith did back.

He made it too the backroom of the bakery before collapsing. Only it wasn’t the backroom. He wasn’t there, not really. He was outside. It was night. He wasn’t screaming at Allura, he was screaming at Shiro.

He was standing in the dark shouting at the closest thing he had to family and Shiro was just taking it. Shiro was looking at him with eyes full of pain and doing everything he could not to cry, while Keith just kept fucking screaming every irritation, every ounce of hurt he’d ever felt. Everything was poured into words and hurled at the man who had saved him over and over agin.

They don’t fight like this. This wasn’t them. This was wrong. This was so wrong and somewhere Keith could feel it. He had to be able to feel it because it was breaking his heart and leaving the shards ready to stab him again and again later.

Shiro was getting on his motorcycle. He was saying something but Keith wasn’t listening to him. He was telling him to leave. He was telling him not to bother coming back. He didn’t want him to ever come back.

Then Shiro was riding away. He was riding away and Keith was just standing there watching him go. Shiro was getting smaller and smaller in the distance until he faded into the night. It was all over and Keith still had no idea.

When everything came crashing back to the broken, stupid realty, Keith was on a cold tile ground. His head hurt. All of him hurt, but he didn’t care about that. He’d thought all the shards had already pierced the bleeding mess that he had left of a heart, but it seemed that one had been weighting for his moment because his chest was burning. Numbly he realized he couldn’t breath. He didn’t remember how, and God it really fucking hurt.

Someone was calling his name. It wasn’t Shiro. He wanted it to be Shiro. He wanted to tell him he was sorry. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean any of it.

But that was too late, wasn’t it?

* * *

Keith remembered this room. He remembered how it felt to sit on the soft couch and let his fingers pick at the velvet—more out of frustration than nerves. The room had the same pictures hanging on the wall, and the same fake plants sitting on the table near the window. It probably wasn’t supposed to change, that might set some of the patients off. Then again, it had only been a few months since Keith left the hospital. That wasn’t enough time for the counselor he’d been assigned to do much remodeling.

His mother had asked if he wanted to see someone else. That was the only thing she’d asked after she found him. The rest he hadn’t been given a choice on. Keith knew she was too afraid that he’d dance around help and it would get worse. He told her this was easier. Talking to someone who knew him was easier.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Her voice was even. Keith liked that. He guessed it was calming for some people. Maybe it reminded them of their mothers or a teacher who’d been kind to them. This woman didn’t remind Keith of anyone. That was probably why talking to her was so easy. There wasn’t something in her to drive him away.

“I blacked out again,” Keith answered. He wasn’t going to avoid answering. That would be stupid and selfish. He was already both, but he’d put his mother through enough this week already.

“And what do you think caused it?” She asked.

Keith closed his eyes. He didn’t know how to say that one. It would be wrong to say that Allura caused him to go over the edge, she’d barely said anything when he’d gone off at her. Saying it was Lance felt off too. Lance had just been nice. They both had been.

Keith had caused this. He didn’t know how to say that without sounding like he was hiding the real answer. Looking for an answer felt too akin to looking for a solution. Keith was certain that one of those didn’t exist.

“I don’t know how to stay in control,” he said out loud.

That seemed so simple. It made it sound like the secret to Keith’s sanity lied simply in controlling his mind. All he had to do was center himself and he’d be fine, but that wasn’t the problem. Never in his life had he had any control, so how was he supposed to process it now. Did the woman sitting in front of him really have any answers at all?

She didn’t say anything. She was waiting. She expected him to say more. There was more. Keith had more, but he didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t want to say it because putting it in front of someone else made it real.

That was a pathetic thought—as if everything churning inside him wasn’t already real, and dangerous, and ready to cut him down.

“I just wasn’t to be normal,” Keith’s voice was so much smaller than he wanted it to be, but he wasn’t sure he had it in him to speak any louder. “But I don’t deserve that.”

“Why don’t you deserve it?” She asked.

“Because,” Keith closed his eyes. “It’s my fault.”

* * *

He bought Allura sunflowers. As far as gestures went he knew it was a weak one, but he didn’t want to just show up empty handed. That wouldn’t feel right. He had figured that she was staying with Coran, that made more sense then renting her old apartment just for the summer. His mother drove him to the house. She waited in the car.

Keith didn’t bother trying to come alone. He knew she wouldn’t stop him, but it would hurt her to. She never pushed the boundaries, they didn’t have the history that allowed her to, but this was hard for her. He knew that. It helped for her to see where he was and that he wasn’t doing anything reckless. He didn’t know how to explain to her that he wasn’t capable of being reckless anymore. He was weak, not stupid.

Allura answered the door. Keith had a feeling she’d been expecting this. That was good, he didn’t know where he was supposed to start.

“You know,” she forced a small smile. “Working in a flower shop makes me sick of those.”

Keith knew she was lying. She took the flowers from his hands gently. She was always good with delicate things.

“You should come in,” she told him.

“Okay,” Keith nodded.

He watched her fill a glass vase with water and empty the packet of plant food into that. She used to lecture Shiro about the right way too keep cut flowers. Just because their days were numbered, didn’t mean that they should be treated like their beauty was expendable. Allura could make a vase full of cut flowers shine brighter a week after they’d been place in her care than they were had on their bushes. Keith didn’t know how someone could radiate that much light.

“I’m sorry.” Keith knew that the words weren’t enoguh.

“I know you are,” Allura looked like she was trying to smile. It fell short. “I don’t think you remember it clearly, I mean, your mom said you probably wouldn’t. But I was there too when she found you.”

Keith winced. He felt cold. He hated how much of him breaking she had to witness. It wasn’t fair to her, but it wasn’t fair to him either. It was so hard to build himself back up again, when he knew how he must look in her eyes.

“I ran after you, actually,” she sighed. “I knew that you didn’t mean a lot of what you said. I’m not mad, but I am hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith said again.

“I’ve been trying to move on,” she placed the vase of flowers on the kitchen table. Keith wasn’t sure if they were supposed to sit down instead of just standing. For some reason he felt very small standing in the middle of Allura’s kitchen. “It’s been really hard, but I’m trying.”

“I know,” he uttered.

“I’m sorry that it’s harder for you,” she looked like she was trying not to cry. “But that’s not my fault.”

“I know.” There was a pit in his stomach. As much as he wanted to say that he never resented her for being stronger than him, that wasn’t true.

“I shouldn’t have told Lance,” she admitted. “I’m sorry, I thought I was doing the right thing, but I wasn’t. But it’s not fair for you to hate me, okay?”

“I don’t,” he promised.

A sad smile crossed her face. She knew that he wasn’t being entirely truthful. As much as he cared about her, and as much as he knew that they were going through the same thing, part of him hated that she could just keep going. And, of course he knew that it wasn’t easy for her, he wasn’t selfish enough to think otherwise. But that didn’t change that she could carry on better than he could.

“I think we need some space from each other, if that’s okay with you,” Allura told him. “I just think time would help.”

Keith nodded. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t need time, that he could be better now, but she was always good at telling when he was lying. He wasn’t going to lie now.

She walked him to the door. Keith tried to think of something comforting to say, he tried to think of a way to convince her that he wasn’t still living in lows, but he couldn’t. For now, he was holding her down. Keith didn’t want that. Shiro wouldn’t have either.

His mother’s car was still outside. She must have figured that this wouldn’t take all that long. Keith supposed that was fair.

“Keith,” Allura put her hand on his shoulder before he left. “We did everything we could have. Back then, I mean. There wasn’t anything we could have done to stop it.”

Keith hugged her. It was easier to pretend when she couldn’t see his face.


	6. Chapter 6

Keith didn’t really need the few days off of work that his mother gave him. He was surprised she didn’t have him come in the make sure he wasn’t doing something self destructive. Maybe that would have been going too far. Keith didn’t know.

He spent his days off watching TV and at a loss for what he was supposed to spend his time doing anyway. Growing up he hadn’t had this problem. He rarely got a second to himself, when he did it was bliss. Then there was the time he’d spent with Shiro. Shiro liked to keep everyone active and he knew how moody Keith could be when he was bored.

Now free time meant reminiscing the ways he used to waste time, then berating himself from falling into that sink hole again. When his mother asked if he was ready to come back to work, he jumped at that. Anything beat sitting alone in their tiny apartment realizing how pathetic he really was.

It seemed that she had been waiting for him to return to announce that the bakery would be undergoing some changed. He wasn’t sure why she waited, right now they only had two employees and her, and she didn’t need to tell him both at the same time. Nevertheless, Keith listened to her announcement.

She seemed pleased about it. That was enough to make him care. He knew that keeping this place afloat was getting more and more difficult, but his mother didn’t give up easy. She saw struggles as challenges to over come, and seemed to enjoy pushing herself. That reminded Keith of someone. But he wasn’t going to think about that right now.

“We’re starting a delivery system,” she explained. “That shouldn’t mean much change for the two of you, I’ve already hired someone who will be covering the deliveries. However, since at this point we don’t expect to make that many a day, and we are still short handed you’ll need to train him to man the register as well.”

“When?” Keith asked.

“Lance is starting tomorrow,” she answered. “Keith you’ll be supervising him during your morning shift.”

Keith was fairly certain he had heard her incorrectly. There was no way that Lance had left the flower shop to come work here. There was no way that Lance was going to willingly come in a ten foot radius of Keith after their last conversation.

“Lance McClain?” Lotor sounded about as shocked as Keith. “You’re hiring the guy who got fired just next door?”

“He got fired?” That was news to Keith.

“Yeah,” Lotor rolled his eyes. “Where have you been?”

He seemed to hear the error of those words as he spoke them. Keith watched embarrassment take over his face. That was a new look for him. Keith would have laughed if he wasn’t determined to show no emotion right now.

“Sorry,” Lotor uttered.

“Why’d Coran fire him?” Keith asked.

“I don’t know,” Lotor shrugged. “I just know it happened.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Keith’s mother silenced the both of them. “I’ve already talked to Coran about the situation, and it’s not something that will hinder him from doing his job.”

They also couldn’t afford to turn people away. Keith knew that she wasn’t going to say that bit out loud, but it was true. If Lance was desperate, he was the perfect person to hire. Anyone else would want more pay, or keep pushing their hours like Lotor did, but Lance would most likely take whatever they gave him. Hiring him was smart, even if Keith was certain neither of them were going to survive the first day.

“Do you think you or Lotor could train him instead?” Keith asked his mother later that day.

“I’m sure you can handle it,” she didn’t get what the problem was.

“It’s not that,” he stated. “I just—I know him,”

“Shouldn’t that make it easier?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, maybe,” Keith rubbed the back of his neck. “Trust me, he’s not gonna want to work with me.”

“It’s a job, Keith,” she told him. “You two don’t have to be best friends, you just have to get things done. You’re able to work with Lotor fine, I’m sure Lance will at least be nicer than him.”

“That’s what I’m afraid off,” Keith muttered.

He didn’t argue anymore. She probably was under the impression that the distraction would be good for him. Keith wasn’t sure what it would be.

* * *

Keith hadn’t realized that the therapy appointments were going to become a regular thing, but his mother had insisted that the insurance covered the fee. Keith wasn’t sure if she was lying about that much, but he didn’t try to get out of it. She was right, he needed help. Maybe this wouldn’t do any good, but what else was he supposed to do?

“Can you tell me about Shiro?” His therapist asked.

Her hands were on her lap. Keith knew that she had a file of notes on him, but she waited until after their talks to write anything in it. That made him feel at least a little bit more at ease. That didn’t mean that he was comfortable diving into everything he wasn’t even able to repress properly.

“He was like my brother,” Keith stated.

She already knew this. He’d used those exact words to describe Shiro on more than one occasion. He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t want to talk about the end, and everything else hurt. Thinking about happy hurt.

But she wasn’t saying anything, that meant he was supposed to keep talking. Keith took a breath. He didn’t want to think about the apartment, or convincing him to just ask Allura out already, or the ways they got through all the bad days.

“I met him when I was in middle school,” Keith said out loud. That felt like a good enough place to start. “My third middle school. I had to move around a bit, but I spent the most time there. I wanted to. He went to the high school across the street, so it was easy.”

“Did you meet him in school?” She asked.

“No,” Keith shook his head.

Keith could still remember the kind of day it had been. He was angry, and tired, and it was always so much easier for him to fuck up in moments like that. He hadn’t liked the home he was staying. That statement was true for most of him growing up, but these people especially didn’t understand him. They thought he was a trouble maker. That just made him act out more, not out of rebellion but because there wasn’t any point in trying to be perfect when all that was expected was failure.

“There was this convenient store in between my school and the house,” Keith said out loud. It didn’t feel right to call it his house, none of them had ever felt a home. “Everyone would go there after school. Not together or anything. I didn’t have friends.”

Keith’s therapist nodded. She was waiting for him to go on. This time he didn’t need to be pushed by the silence. It was coming back now. He hadn’t thought of this in such a long time. It was the beginning of so much, but did anyone ever really look back at their starting points? It always felt better to act like things had been going forever. It meant ignoring that someday whatever you were feeling now might change as well.

“I usually didn’t have money, so I’d just walk to the house instead,” Keith uttered. “The other kids earned allowances sometimes.”

“And you didn’t?” She prompted.

Keith just shrugged. He really wasn’t in the mood to get into childhood injustices. Those were wounds had been long cauterized and forgotten. He had much bigger and more painful issues than not having the five dollar bills that the other kids received.

“I was pissed off,” Keith remembered that part clearly. “I’m not sure why. That kinda happened a lot, especially at that age.”

That was a bit of a lie. It happened at every age. It still happened now. It was one of the reasons Keith was here. His emotions always got the best of him.

“So I went in anyway,” Keith explained. “I pretended I had money and started looking at stuff. It was cheap, like two dollars each kind of cheap. There were so many other kids in there, I didn’t think anyone would notice if I stuffed a bag of chips in my pocket.”

Keith winced. That was when everything turned on him. Maybe he should have expected that outcome. After all, it was a pattern with him.

“One of the store clerks caught me,” Keith stated.

He remembered the firm grip the man had had on his arm. He couldn’t have been older than Keith was right now, but to the thirteen-year-old Keith that didn’t matter. He was the kind of kid who scoffed at authority, but he didn’t know what to do. Looking back, the guy was probably just trying to scare him and any of the witnessing middle schooler who had thought about trying to steal as well.

“He asked where my parents were,” Keith still said these words bitterly. “When I didn’t answer he said he was going to call the police. He couldn’t really do that. I get that now, but I was a kid and panicked. I thought I was gonna start crying or—I don’t know.”

That didn’t mean he could tell the man to call his current foster parents. That was the absolute worst thing that could happen. Keith had been terrified of how they’d react—terrified that everyone was watching him and there was nothing he could do. He hated that house, but he hated moving even more. He’d only just gotten past being the new kid in that town, he wasn’t about to do it again.

“Then there was this loud crash in the back of the store,” Keith let out a chuckle now. “I remember everyone—and I mean everyone in the store—just turning to see this guy standing next to an entire display case of some sort of candy that was completely spilt on the ground.”

That had been the first time Keith saw Shiro. He’d done a good job of pretending that was an accident. He’d had this sheepish, embarrassed look on his face. It made the whole scenario feel like some sort of kids cartoon.

“The guy’s grip on me loosened for a second, so I ran.” Keith had bolted out of that store as if he was running for his life. To him, that might as well have been the case. “I hid in the park nearby and ate the chips. I guess I figured that no one was actually going to come that far chasing after me.”

He’d been wrong about that. Part of Keith really just hadn’t believed anyone would think he was worth looking for. He knew he’d probably never be able to go back into that store again, but it wasn’t like he’d gone there anyway. He thought that he’d gotten away without consequences.

“It took him like twenty minutes to find me,” Keith shook his head. Once he’d asked Shiro how he’d managed to do that, but Shiro had just shrugged and said Keith was exactly where he would have hid in his situation. It also didn’t help that there wasn’t anywhere else for Keith to go aside from side alleys and backyards. “At first I was gonna run again, but he had this really easy going energy and I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to bolt to.”

Shiro had approached him the way Keith saw people approach cats or other skittish animals. He didn’t come to close to Keith, he made it clear that he was trying to respect his space. He’d sat down a few feet away in a far more casual manor than Keith thought possible.

“He talked to me for a bit,” Keith recounted. “He made a joke about knocking the display case over. I hadn’t thought it was on purpose until he said that. Then he kept laughing about the look on the store clerk’s face. It took a while for him to ask what he really wanted to know.”

Shiro knew how to handle people. That was a skill Keith had never picked up from him. He also was too kind and compassionate for his own good. If he wasn’t such a nice person, Keith and him never would have fallen into each other’s lives.

“He asked if I ate enough at home,” Keith winced even though the conversation had been years ago. “I don’t think most people who assume that when they saw a kid trying to steal something. It’s like he saw the best in people. I remember saying that the people who took care of me fed me as much as they were supposed to. Apparently that raised more red flags.”

Shiro hadn’t questioned him anymore about it that day. He’d bought Keith ice cream and told him funny stories instead. Eventually, Keith opened up. He complained to Shiro about kids and teachers at school. Shiro listened to him, he actually listened to him. That felt good.

“Eventually he told me that shoplifting was bad,” Keith laughed. “Then he explained how to not get caught if I tried to do it again. Although he didn’t recommend I make a habit of it.”

“And then?” His therapist asked.

“I made a habit of something else,” Keith let himself smile now. It would take a second for fondness to feel like a scar. “I kept going to the park after school. He’d study there too. We’d just talk. I think he wanted to protect me. He ended up doing that a lot.”

That was how it started. Back then, Keith never would have guessed how it was going to end.

* * *

Lance showed up ten minutes early for his shift. That meant that for ten minutes he was awkwardly hovering at the counter without anything to do. Normal people would just look at their phones, but Lance apparently had left his in his bag in the backroom. Keith assumed it was to make a good impression, which was stupid since he was the one training Lance and not his mom so it was far too late for that.

“So,” Lance broke the silence that Keith honestly didn’t care enough to prod at. “How’ve you been?”

“It’s been less than a week,” Keith said dryly.

“Right,” Lance muttered. Usually he’d have a snide remark to that. Keith wasn’t sure he was going to be able to handle Lance of all people trying to be nice to him all day.

Another five silent minutes drained by before Keith really could not take it anymore. He couldn’t take the way Lance was quietly fidgeting, or sending him side glances every few seconds. If this was Lance trying to be discreet Keith really felt bad for the guy. That in it self was ironic, considering the only reason Lance was acting like this was out of his attempt to reign in his personality because he felt bad for Keith.

This was going to give both of them a headache an hour into their shift. Keith was not excited for the rest of the day.

“Just punch in early,” he instructed. “If my mom asks tell her I told you to.”

“Are you gonna get in trouble?” Lance asked him.

“Does that matter?” Keith asked back. “I sick of sitting here and I already have a feeling it’s going to take a long time for you to pick up on shit.”

Lance did not retaliate to that the way Keith was certain that he should. Instead he silently followed Keith’s instructions. It was more annoying than any half assed comeback the idiot would have been able to think up.

“So, the delivery service is starting next week,” Keith knew Lance had already been briefed on that. “Which means you gotta deal with learning the morning stuff until then.”

“I worked next door,” Lance reminded him.

“Yeah, I know,” Keith said a little too sharply. He couldn’t help it. The fact that Lance wasn’t reacting was pissing him off. He couldn’t deal with this guy walking on egg shells around him. “So I’m going to explain things to you, and then I’m gonna watch you not fuck it up. And that will be the next five hours of our lives.”

“Sounds fun,” Lance’s voice neared joking.

Keith just rolled his eyes.

It turned out that Lance was better at customer service than Keith. No surprise there. Everything else was a bit harder. Lance succeeded in dropping serval of the new croissant on the ground because he claimed that the tongs they used didn’t work right. Keith argued that he was just using them wrong. By the third time the responses had boiled down to irritated insults that Lance shrugged off.

“Seriously?” Keith groaned when Lance managed to knock a brownie out of it’s display case in an attempt to get it for a customer (said customer was currency still standing in front of them, but Keith gave up trying to censor himself after the first hour). “You know at this rate, we’re actually loosing money.”

“At least I don’t scowl at everyone who walks in,” Lance shot back. He seemed to have spoken before he even realized he had opened his mouth to talk. For a second he just looked stunned, then a slow smirk formed of his face. “Or growl every time the doorbell rings. You’re gonna scare people off. That’s loosing us money.”

Keith watched as Lance turned to give a new brownie to a very appalled looking woman. He flashed her a bright smile as Keith told her the price and took the dollar bills she handed him. He felt the embarrassment slowly rise in him. His mother was not going to be happy if this woman filled out a customer complaint. Had they ever even gotten one of those before? Maybe when Keith first started and actually used to argue openly with Lotor.

Keith was so stuck in his own thoughts he nearly handed the woman the wrong amount of change. Lance laughed at that. He laughed very loudly.

“Shut up,” Keith muttered.

“Nope,” Lance just shook his head.

It was only when the woman took her time exiting, giving them one last perturbed glance that Keith began to laugh as well. He felt relieved. It was odd that someone insulting him could make him feel like a weight had been lifted off of his chest, but he supposed his relationship with Lance had never been anything but odd.

“Have a nice day!” Lance called after the woman who was now long gone.

“Jesus Christ,” Keith was still laughing.

“We’re gonna run this place into the ground,” Lance realized.

“You mean you’re going to,” Keith huffed.

“Um, excuse me?” Lance put his hands on his hips. “You started that, mullet-head!”

“Original,” Keith rolled his eyes. “What do you have against my hair anyway?”

“So much,” Lance shook his head solemly. “So very, very much.”

It was easier after that. Keith continued to poke fun at Lance, but it felt much more light hearted now that Lance was arguing back. Through all of the name calling and mistakes, he did manage to train Lance better than he thought he’d be able to. That being said, he was still fairly certain that Lance would find a way to burn down the entire shop if Keith left him alone for ten minutes, but there was at least progress.

Keith spent his lunch break inside today, he ate the small sandwich he’d forced himself to make that morning at one of tables set up for customers. Lance chattered at him like he always did. He didn’t seem used to having this much down time at work. That made sense. Keith knew that Coran’s store had more foot traffic than theirs did. They were trying to work on that.

“You don’t need to inhale death right now?” Lance raised an eyebrow.

“If that’s your way of saying smoking,” Keith sighed.

“It is,” Lance interjected.

“No, I’m fine. Thanks for your concern.” Keith’s voice was thick with sarcasm. Lance just made a face and went back with restocking the sugar cookies.

“I’m gonna get fat working here,” Lance informed him. “I want to eat everything.”

“You still have to buy it,” Keith warned.

“Fat and poor,” Lance corrected. “My life is over.”

“That’s not dramatic at all,” Keith said dryly.

“I don’t care,” Lance informed him.

Keith just rolled his eyes.

“When did you start?” Lance’s voice had less of it’s humor in it. “Smoking, I mean.”

“Why?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

“You weren’t doing it back in high school,” Lance stated.

“You don’t know that,” Keith argued.

“Yeah I do,” Lance said confidently.

“Did you actually know anything about me in high school?” Keith questioned.

“No,” Lance admitted. “But I would have known if you were smoking.”

“You’re an idiot,” Keith shook his head.

“You can smell it on a person,” Lance argued. “And I was near you a lot.”

“Creepy,” Keith commented.

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” Lance muttered. “I was around you the most out of anyone in that school.”

“That’s because I was anti-social and you got in my way,” Keith informed him. “All the time.”

“Yeah, well old habits die hard,” Lance flashed him a grin. Keith didn’t ask what that even meant. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I started a year ago,” Keith stated. “Don’t ask me why, okay?”

“Does there need to be a reason why?” Lance asked.

“Yeah,” Keith hated the way that answer made him wince. “There’s always a reason. When people say there isn’t they’re lying.”

“Okay,” Lance drew out the word. “Is there a good enough reason to stop?”

“Why are you so fixated on this?” Keith asked because he couldn’t not get defensive. It wasn’t in his nature.

“I dunno,” Lance sounded honest. “It makes me sad.”

“Gee, I never considered that,” Keith said sarcastically.

“You know what I mean,” Lance sighed. Keith didn’t, but he didn’t know how to ask.

“Those don’t go there,” Keith pointed to the napkins in Lance’s hands. “Put them on the other side.”

“Yes, sir,” Lance gave him a salute.

“You’re so weird,” Keith let him know.

“So are you,” Lance smiled now. “It’d be boring if we weren’t. Just think about how dull normal peoples lives must be. That must suck.”

“I don’t think so,” Keith uttered before he could stop himself.

Lance was joking. He was doing the special snowflake routine because he thought that Keith would find it entertaining, he didn’t want to know what Keith really thought about the people lucky enough to have boring lives.

“Yeah?” Lance’s voice cut through Keith’s thoughts.

“Never mind,” Keith shook his head.

“No, what were you gonna say?” Lance asked. “You can’t start being all edgy and just drop it.”

“I just think that boring is underrated,” Keith told him. “Like, I would have rather had boring if it meant not having to deal with certain shit.”

“Right,” Lance was nodding. “But do you think you’d still be you without it?”

“That’s kinda the point,” Keith couldn’t believe he was actually saying this out loud and to Lance McClain of all people.

“I think I like angtsy Keith better than boring Keith,” Lance informed him.

“You don’t know what boring Keith would be like,” Keith pointed out.

“Nah,” Lance put his hand on his chin, pretending to be lost in thought. “I think he’d not smoke, and he’d probably be a lot less rude to the poor new guy his mother hired—”

“I’m not that rude,” Keith crossed his arms.

“He would not have a mullet,” Lance added. “And he’d be a lot less fun to talk to.”

“I’m not fun to talk to,” Keith stated.

“Dude,” Lance gave him a deadpan expression. “You’re like one of the only people who doesn’t get sick of my crap.”

“Yes, I do,” Keith argued. “And tell you I am. All of the time.”

“Yeah,” Lance shrugged. “But you never stop how you act because of it. You make it easier for other people to be themselves.”

“What conversations have you been having?” Keith was only half joking.

“Weird ones,” Lance stated. “Your break’s over now, by the way.”

“Right,” Keith sighed, pulling himself to his feet.

They got better at not making their customers give them odd looks or seem uncomfortable as the days wore on. Lance seemed to only get more energy, which Keith didn’t understand. The way Lance would bounce slightly on the balls of his feet or hum along to a song that wasn’t playing confused Keith. It was like Lance was radiating light and Keith didn’t know how he’d managed to tap into that.

“You guys should play music here,” Lance told him later that week. “It would make things feel less stiff.”

“It’d be distracting,” Keith stated.

“To who?” Lance scoffed.

“You,” Keith said pointedly.

“Whatever,” Lance rolled his eyes. “I’m going to suggest it to your mom.”

“Don’t,” Keith groaned. “She’ll listen and I’ll be stuck with you lip syncing Taylor Swift all day.”

“My lip syncing skills are on point,” Lance shot back. “Excuse you.”

They fell into what Keith could only consider a routine. It was nice. On the shifts Keith worked alone or with Lotor instead, the bakery felt empty. Lance’s energy had a way of filling space. It was overwhelming, there was no doubt about that, but it was also up-lifting.

It was distracting. When Lance was around it was hard to focus on anything other than Lance. It made everything else feel a little bit smaller. Like Keith could deal with the real world later, because right now he had to deal with this guy.

It was a weird feeling, but it was better than what Keith felt at the end of each day. He knew that at some point he was going to need to be honest with his therapist. Well, it wasn’t as if he was lying or that he meant to not tell her what was bothering him. He didn’t know how to put what he felt into words, because what he felt was nothing.

It was hollow, and numb, and empty and it wanted to consume him. He didn’t like it. He didn’t know how anyone could like it. It made him feel small and alone.

This wasn’t like how he’d felt the last time. That should have been comfort, because the last thing that he wanted was to be back in that hell, but nothing felt comforting when he was alone anymore. This was new but it wasn’t good. He knew that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be late for class because I'm posting this and I just want everyone to know that.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I've actually had this all written out since October but I've had no motivation to post it for a while but now I kinda just want to have it all up so here's the next chapter

It turned out that starting the delivery system wasn’t too bad of an idea. Keith saw less and less of Lance each week, and his mother seemed more and more confident with the direction that the bakery was going. At times Keith forgot that this was a business. They weren’t living paycheck to paycheck, Keith knew that she had money she was saving for something. Deep down, he knew she was saving it for him. She wanted him to finish school someday—to have an actually successful life.

Lance seemed to be enjoying the work. He was energetic. Keith figured that helped. He doubted he’d be any good at Lance’s job, he was barely able to not scare away the customers who came in and most of those were regulars. That was why he was surprised one morning when his mother told him that she thought it would be a good idea for him to go with Lance on the delivery he was making that day.

“It’s a long trip,” she explained as she stacked the boxes. “I think it’s better if we have both of you on it.”

“You don’t think I’m going to kill him on the way there?” Keith asked dryly.

“At least wait until the trip back,” she quipped. “I thought you might like the fresh air.”

“Of the city?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

“It’ll be fresher once you get out of the city,” she handed him the boxes. “Make sure he doesn’t drop any of them.”

“Yep,” Keith nodded.

It was funny that he was the one who also let all three of the boxes fall into the cracked cement the second he pushed open the door of the bakery and his eyes landed on Lance. Well, it was less Lance and more what he was casually leaning against. If he wasn’t frozen, he might have made some sort of snide remark of Lance trying too hard to channel his James Dean. But Keith wasn’t sure he could form words right now.

“Hey,” Lance pushed him self up off of the side compartment on the motorcycle Keith hadn’t realized he owned.

“You make your deliveries on that?” Keith asked.

“Yeah,” Lance nodded. “You’re gonna have to hold the boxes from the side car.”

Keith had half a mind to march back into the bakery and demand what on earth his mother was playing at. The rational part of his brain pushed that down. Lance had seen him flip out once, and he wasn’t going to let that happen again. He forced himself to take a breath. This wasn’t a big deal. He wasn’t going to be the guy who was launched into a panic over a fucking bike.

“Hey,” Lance was giving him and odd look now. “You ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here,” Keith nodded. He slid into the side car and Lance flashed him a grin. Keith rolled his eyes for good measure. “Don’t you have a helmet?”

“Oh right,” Lance tossed Keith a bright red one before placing a dark blue one on his own head.

“And what was wrong with normal colored helmets?” Keith asked.

“Too boring,” Lance winked at him.

“You’re not smooth,” Keith informed him.

His grip tightened on the pastry boxes when Lance pulled out of the parking stall. He pretended that he didn’t like the familiar way the wind hit is face, already tangling his hair. He focused on breathing at a normal pace. This wasn’t so bad. Lance wasn’t going very fast, and he seemed to be paying careful attention to the cars around them.

“Where are we going?” Keith asked when they stopped at a red light.

“You didn’t ask your mom that?” Lance laughed.

“Well I don’t really care,” Keith added. “I was just making conversation.”

“Right,” Lance looked amused. “You’ll see, then.”

“Whatever,” Keith sighed.

He started to relax as they headed out of the city limits. Keith hadn’t been this far away from his apartment. There had never been a need to explore his surroundings when he’d moved in with his mother. She’d suggested they do on drives or try camping a number of times, but he’d shrugged off all of it. Honestly, Keith just didn’t care much about seeing the place he was living. Constantly moving had knocked the idea of exploring out of him.

Still, this was nice. As the buildings slowly faded away, Keith started to realize why people liked leaving the city every so often. He’d never stopped to think that problems always felt connected to people. The farther they got from that, the lighter Keith became. He was starting to lose himself to the motion and the sound of the wind in his ears. He let his eyes close. He let himself let go of everything that had been pressing on him the past few weeks. He knew they’d be back when the opened his eyes, but for now he could pretend he was able to relax.

When Lance started picking up speed, Keith was confused. He opened his eyes to see that they were pulling up to the top of a steep drop. That made sense, they didn’t live in a flat area, there would probably be a few mountains and hills coming up. That wasn’t what was odd. The grin on Lance’s face was what was setting him off, that and the fact that he wasn’t slowing down.

“Hey!” Keith spoke over the wind. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see,” Lance didn’t look at him. His determined expression was fixed straight ahead.

“Lance!” Keith shouted. He didn’t fight to keep the panic and horror from his voice. He wasn’t stupid, he realized what was going on. “What the hell?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Lance’s grin was clear in his voice.

“Lance, stop!” Keith screamed.

“Trust me!” Lance shouted back.

There was a gleam in his eyes. That gleam knocked Keith’s retort out of him. He was going to yell more, but the words refused to leave his lips. His hands clutched the boxes in his lap too tightly. In the back of his mind he knew it was going to crinkle the cardboard, but that was really the least of his worried right now.

Keith tried to take a breath. It burned his lungs and he didn’t have time to question why that always happened when he was on the edge of freaking out. Then Lance drove them over the side of the mountain.

At first Keith thought he was going to throw up. He thought he was going to spiral out of control, he thought he was going to scream, and that Lance would loose his focus on steering them and that would be it. He didn’t even had the chance to wonder if he was okay with that or not. He didn’t have the chance to feel grateful that his instincts told him he wasn’t.

The change happened in an instant. It had to have been only a few seconds, even if time felt like it was elongating this moment. The seconds felt as long and stretched as the space they were barreling through. Keith wasn’t sure if it was the wind hitting his face, or the adrenaline pumping through him, or the sound of Lance loudly whooping as they went, but something melted his fear into exhilaration.

As they raced down the hill, Keith felt his heart lift out of his chest. It was terrifying, sure, but nowadays everything was terrifying. This was more than that. It was freeing. He felt like they were flying. For all he knew, they might as well have been.

The world they were falling through didn’t matter. Every fear Keith had pushed away, every dark doubt, every criticism, and wound, and heart ache didn’t matter. Right now the only thing that existed was this bike, and him, and Lance who was still letting his voice echo into the air around them.

Keith started laughing, then he was howling and whooping too. He didn’t care how completely ridiculous he knew he had to sound. This was amazing.

Lance got them back to a regular speed after that. Keith’s voice felt hoarse and he didn’t mind one bit. He had to check to make sure that the pastries in the boxes were alright. He’d keep this part out of the version of today that he’d tell his mother when they returned.

“Trust me, now?” Lance asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re insane,” Keith told him flatly.

“And I have great ideas,” Lance said a little smugly. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t fun.”

“I’m not,” Keith told him.

“Then say it,” Lance challenged.

“No,” Keith rolled his eyes.

“Lance has great ideas,” Lance loudly proclaimed. “And Keith should trust him.”

“Why are you shouting?” Keith couldn’t keep his own amusement out of his voice.

“Why not?” Lance asked back. “No one’s listening.”

“You’re still insane,” Keith stated. “But maybe you sometimes have good ideas.”

“Great ideas,” Lance corrected.

“Fine,” Keith let out as dramatic of a sigh as he could muster. “You sometimes have great ideas.”

“I’m not getting anything better than that, am I?” Lance was grinning.

“No,” Keith couldn’t help grinning back. “You’re really not.”

Keith didn’t keep track of the time as they drove. He didn’t feel the need to. It was nice to pretend that they were existing outside of the rest of the world. Lance didn’t talk to him, but it didn’t feel awkward. They both seemed relaxed. Keith liked that.

Eventually they arrived at a small town. This must be where they were making the delivery. Keith didn’t understand why somewhere so in the middle of no where would call a small bakery in the middle of the city. It didn’t make sense.

“I helped with that,” Lance stated when Keith voiced this thoughts. “I grew up around here.”

“I thought you grew up across the country from here,” Keith stated.

“Nah,” Lance shook his head. “We moved when I was twelve. My dad got a better job—well, he got a less shitty job.”

“I didn’t know that,” Keith stated.

“You didn’t ask,” Lance shrugged. “Plus, I do give off the city kid vibe.”

“Please do me a favor and never speak again,” Keith replied.

Lance laughed.

When they pulled up in front of what Keith was pretty sure was the largest building in the town, the smile faded from Lance’s face. Keith wasn’t sure he’d ever seen this kid look so serious. This was worse than back when he’d tried to apologize to Keith in the alley. Lance looked like he’d just stepped into another world. It wasn’t a world Keith wanted to follow him into.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Lance started. “It’s probably better if I do the talking.”

“You think I’m gonna scare them?” Keith raised an eyebrow. He meant that as a joke but Lance wasn’t smiling like he usually did.

“No, it’ll just be easier,” Lance said before hopping off of the bike.

He walked to the door and rang the bell. Keith stood a little bit behind him, the boxes still in his hands. After a moment, a woman dressed in black opened the door. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she smiled brightly when she saw Lance.

“Your mother said you’d be stopping by,” she pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”

“You should thank my mom. She told me she thought this might be easier than hiring a caterer,” Lance hugged her back. “I didn’t know you and mom kept in touch.”

“She called me after it happened,” the woman looked like she was going to start crying again. “She’s a very sweet woman.”

“Yeah,” Lance nodded.

“Come on, I’ll show you where to put that,” she turned and led them into a large room.

There were flowers lining the back wall. In the center of them was a blown up portrait of a man. That made the pieces fall into place in Keith’s mind. This was a funeral.

“Right over here, dear,” the woman gestured to a table. Keith realized he was supposed to be moving.

“Right,” he uttered, quickly putting the boxes down. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” the woman smiled again. Now Keith could see that her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lance said to her. “Your father was a great man.”

“He was,” she looked like she was going to cry again. “Thank you, Lance. How much do I owe you?”

After the woman payed for the food and Keith helped her put the pastries on the paper plates sitting on the table, they walked back to Lance’s bike. The serious look was still on Lance’s face. Keith wasn’t sure what to say to him. He couldn’t help wondering if this was what Lance felt like when he wasn’t able to joke or laugh.

“Did you know the guy?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Keith wasn’t sure what else to say.

“When I lived here a lot of the old people got annoyed at us kids,” Lance let out a soft chuckle now. “We’d cause a bit of trouble. We liked to run around the neighborhood. It usually didn’t end well. I broke their mailbox once. I don’t even remember how I did it. It was a mess, and I thought I was gonna die, but he just laughed.”

“That’s nice,” Keith uttered.

“I tried to help him fix it,” Lance shook his head. “I really was a mess. He let me watch though. His daughter was in college then. We only saw her during the summer. I think he was lonely.”

“Was her mother around?” Keith asked.

“I don’t think so,” Lance told him. “I don’t think they ever told me why she wasn’t. Once he helped us get a kite out of a tree. That was a nice day. The wind was a little more powerful than we thought, but it was nice.”

There was a far off look in Lance’s eyes. Keith watched as his mind brought back every snatch of a memory he shared with the man who had just passed and the poor girl trying to cope with that. Keith couldn’t imagine how much pain that woman must be in, yet she still hugged Lance and smiled.

“Do you ever feel like death is all around us?” Keith asked out loud.

For a second, Lance didn’t say anything.

“Sometimes,” he uttered. His eyes met Keith’s. “What? You look surprised.”

“No one else would have answered that honestly,” Keith stated. “They would have said something about looking on the bright side and death and life going hand in hand.”

“I don’t feel like pretty lies today,” Lance smiled a sad smile. “I don’t think that it should make life any less meaningful, but, yeah, sometimes I know exactly what you’re talking about. It sucks.”

“It does,” Keith agreed.

For a second they both were silent. They were going to have to drive away soon. They were going to have to leave this town and all it’s memories and all it’s wounds behind. Keith had a feeling it was going to be harder for both of them to be as carefree as they had been on the drive over. He was surprised Lance was able to joke around so much before they arrived given he already knew what was waiting for them. Or maybe that was exactly why he needed to laugh and make Keith think that he was going to get the both of them killed. Lance couldn’t spend the whole trip there in anticipation.

“Let’s get ice cream,” Lance broke the silence.

“We’re supposed to get back when we’re done,” Keith reminded him.

“Ah, no big deal. A few more minutes isn’t gonna hurt,” Lance told him. “This whole thing is supposed to take a couple of hours. They won’t even notice if we’re a bit late.”

Keith almost argued, but then he didn’t. Who cared if they were breaking the rules? If Lance wanted to eat ice cream in his home town then Keith was going to come along for the ride. If Lance thought that this would help right now, Keith was all for it.

Despite not living here since middle school, Lance knew exactly where to take them. Keith had a feeling that as a kid Lance had spent a lot of time sitting at the table he lead them to. Keith let Lance order for him, since he was clearly more excited and Keith really didn’t care what kind of ice cream he got.

“Did you like it here?” Keith asked when Lance put a large ice cream cone with two scoops balanced on top of it in his hands.

“Yeah,” Lance nodded. “It got a bit boring sometimes, but at least everyone was nice. I think it’s easier to want to see the world when you have no idea what else is out there.”

“That makes sense,” Keith hummed. He never wanted to see the world. He’d always just wanted one place to feel enough like home.

“I was happy when we moved,” Lance told him. “Then we got there and the house felt small, and the city was loud, and no one at school like me.”

“People liked you,” Keith brushed off.

“Eventually,” Lance argued. “At first I was a total weirdo.”

“You still are,” Keith informed him.

“Shut up,” Lance rolled his eyes, but there was a playfulness in his tone. “I wanted to come back, but I never complained. My parents weren’t doing too great financially. I figured out bits of it, and it never felt right to make the move about me.”

“You were a good kid,” Keith commented.

“I was a little brat,” Lance shrugged. “But I tried not to be sometimes.”

“I’m sure your parents appreciated that,” Keith stated.

“They did,” Lance chuckled. “They’re more on their feet now. It’s good. They’re good. It’s just, I don’t know, they expect a lot from me. My siblings are a lot better at being successful. So I’m kinda the disappointment.”

“You’re not a disappointment,” Keith didn’t know if Lance was going to believe this coming from him. He didn’t know if Lance took anything he said at face value.

“I’m not exactly doing anything with my life,” Lance reminded him.

“You’re young,” Keith stated. “You have a job that you’re surprisingly really good at, and you’re supporting yourself. That’s something.”

“Thanks,” Lance didn’t sound all that convinced, but he did sound grateful. Keith would take that.

“I met my mom three years ago,” Keith uttered before he fully realized what he was doing.

“Yeah?” Lance was looking at him now with warm eyes. He wanted Keith to say more, but he wasn’t going to make him. That was what was nice about Lance. He could be rude, and annoying, but he knew that people had boundaries.

“She gave me up when she had me,” Keith hadn’t known the full story until three years ago. “I grew up in foster care. I didn’t know who she was, I just remember being told once that she was too young and couldn’t take care of me.”

“That’s hard,” Lance’s voice was soft now.

“She was nineteen,” Keith stated. “She told me that when we met. She and guy she was with—my dad, I guess—they wanted to keep me, but he was sick and he didn’t make it. When she gave birth she was all alone. It was easier to keep it that way.”

Keith hadn’t known how to feel when he’d heard those bits. He’d decided a long time ago that he didn’t like either of his parents, but he didn’t know which one he blamed more. It was easy to imagine the mother who didn’t want, but it took longer for a younger him to construct the idea of what his father had been. Somehow he’s known that they hadn’t been together when he was given up. He’d imagined some deadbeat that didn’t care at all about Keith or his mother.

“She dropped out of school when she got pregnant,” Keith remembered how sad his mother had looked when she told him this. “She never went back. She ended up getting a job at the bakery to pay her bills. After a while she worked her way up to owning it.”

She said that she always thought about him. She always wished there could have been a way for her to keep him, but there hadn’t been. There really had been no other way, and that had hurt because for so long Keith had held onto resentment—for so long he’d been certain that if his parents really wanted him, they would have found a way for him to stay with them. Instead he’d spent his childhood without a home.

“How did you find her?” Lance asked.

“She found me,” Keith let himself smile now. “Apparently she’d been looking for a while, but once I was old enough to be out of the system I didn’t look back.”

“Were you happy to meet her?” The way Lance asked this told Keith that he already knew the answer.

“I didn’t want to,” Keith told him. “I din’t have a family, but I had something. I guess I just didn’t think it was big enough for her.”

“Really?” Lance raised an eyebrow.

“And I was bitter,” Keith added. “I didn’t want to let someone who’d left me back into my life.”

“What changed your mind?” Lance wondered.

“Shiro.” Keith could still see the look on Shiro’s face when he had declared to him that he wanted nothing to do with this woman. “He was the friend that Allura told you about.”

“Right,” Lance heard the words Keith didn’t say. He was Keith’s friend who’d passed away and taken Keith’s sanity with him.

“He helped her find me,” Keith added. “When I wouldn’t respond to her emails, he did. I think he wanted to see both sides.”

“He sounds supportive,” Lance commented.

“He was,” Keith could feel himself threatening to fade at that. He pushed the thoughts of Shiro out of his mind. They were too dangerous to stay around for long. “So eventually he convinced me to meet her. It didn’t go great at first, but I think she expected that. I had a lot of shit to work through, but after about a year and a handful of coffee dates I realized that my childhood sucking wasn’t her fault. I also realized I wanted her in my life.”

“You two seem close now,” Lance said.

“She was there when I needed her,” Keith stated. “The second time around, but that’s better than nothing.”

“Yeah,” Lance hummed.

“Come on,” Keith stood. His ice cream was all but finished, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what time it was by now. “We should get going.”

“Right,” Lance nodded.

When they were getting on the bike and preparing for the long ride back, the serious expression crossed Lance’s face again. At first Keith thought that he was thinking about his childhood again. They were about to leave the town he’d gown up in, he didn’t blame Lance if that stirred up some emotions. But, instead, Lance looked at him.

“Thanks for telling me all that,” he sounded so genuine. “You didn’t have to.”

“I like talking to you,” Keith stated before he could realize everything those words said (and everything they didn’t).

“You don’t think I’m annoying?” Lance asked.

“I never said that,” Keith smirked.

Lance laughed. The smile on his face didn’t leave as they drove out of the town. The light in his eyes was back. Keith tried to let himself relax like that, but the closer they got to the city, the more the weight of the real world seemed to come back to him. At least his mother had been right, the fresh air did do him good.

* * *

“Why did you get fired from next door anyway?” Keith had thought through every way he could possibly approach this question without upsetting Lance.

It wasn’t like the answer mattered, Lance got his job her anyway, and Keith was pretty sure his mother already knew the details. He tried to push wondering aside, but the more time passed the more the question gnawed at him. Lance wasn’t an irresponsible employee. He could get over excited or even neglectful at times, but Keith knew that he worked hard, he watched him work hard. Coran wasn’t very strict or unreasonable. Keith couldn’t think of a single situation that would result in him dismissing Lance. It just didn’t make any sense to him.

“I thought you already knew,” Lance stated.

They were opening the store. Keith was tired, but Lance looked near exhaustion. If they both made it through the next few hours without messing something up, Keith would consider it a miracle. Maybe it was because it was so early that Lance didn’t seem at all irritated at what Keith had just asked him.

“My mom wouldn’t tell me,” Keith said sheepishly. “It’s a privacy thing.”

“I know,” Lance said. “She told me she wouldn’t. I just thought that Allura would have told you.”

“Oh,” Keith wasn’t sure what to say now.

“You guys are friends, right?” Lance asked.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded. “But we’re kinda taking a break.”

“From being friends?” Lance raised an eyebrow.

“It’s complicated,” Keith didn’t know where to begin explaining that.

“Oh.” A smirk formed on Lance’s lips. “I see.”

“Not like that!” Keith all but shouted. “God, no. We’re just friends. That would be so weird.”

“So you guys are fighting, then?” Lance assumed.

“You could say that,” Keith shrugged. “I think it’s more that we’re trying not to be fighting. He easiest way is to have some space.”

“Right,” Lance nodded. “And that started before I got fired.”

“Yeah,” Keith told him. “But I don’t think she’d tell me even if we were talking. She’s not like that.”

“I asked her out,” Lance stated bluntly. He winced, probably more at the memory than his own words. “I thought I was being smooth but it ended in this big embarrassing mess.”

“I can imagine that,” Keith stated.

“Shut up,” Lance rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t gonna leave, but I couldn’t get through the next day without feeling like I was gonna explode. I told Coran I had to quit.”

“So he fired you?” Keith questioned.

“He’s nice,” Lance smiled now. “I’ve been having issues with my rent, so I think he felt bad sending me off without a backup plan. If he fired me, at least I’d get a little bit more pay than if I quit.”

“Then my mom offered you a job,” Keith put that much together.

“I lucked out,” Lance stated. “That could have been really bad.”

“Yeah,” Keith said honestly. He couldn’t see himself ever walking out on something so needed because of bruised feelings.

“I know it sounds dumb,” Lance seemed to be reading Keith’s thoughts.

“Kinda,” Keith wasn’t going to dance around Lance’s feelings.

“Do you ever just snap so bad that you just can’t bring yourself to look back?” Lance asked. He sounded genuine. It made Keith want to roll his eyes.

“Yes,” he said instead. “And a girl is a stupid reason to get this bent up.”

“Fuck off,” Lance muttered. He was offended, but Keith wasn’t about to apologize for that. He wouldn’t have said anything if he hadn’t meant it.

“She probably wouldn’t even bring it up again,” Keith added. “As long as you weren’t an ass when you asked her.”

“I wasn’t,” Lance’s irritation was clear in his voice. Keith was on thin ice, but he was going to fast to care.

“You didn’t know her for that long,” Keith knew he shouldn’t be saying out loud. “You couldn’t just get over it.”

“You’re a dick,” Lance stated. “Just because you don’t understand what someone else is going through, doesn’t mean that it’s any less than your problems.”

“You have no idea what my problems are,” Keith hated how dark his voice got.

“Exactly,” Lance crossed his arms. “And you don’t know mine, because you’re not me. If you want people to give a damn about you, stop acting like your worse off than they are.”

Those words took a second to sink in. Keith’s mind replayed his own voice. He still was certain that Lance was making a big deal out of nothing, but he did have a point. Keith was being rude—no, he was being judgmental. If Lance was telling him any of this in the first place it was because there was some trust there. Keith was hurting that just by reacting like this.

“I’m sorry,” he said out loud. “You’re right.”

“I usually am,” Lance stated.

“Eh,” Keith teased. “I’d say maybe forty percent of the time.”

“Shut up.” This time Lance didn’t sound pissed off. Keith would take that as a victory.

* * *

It was rare for Keith not to be working closing shift, but he got some nights off. He didn’t necessarily enjoy them, as it just meant sitting in the apartment killing time until his mother was home and they could figure out what they were having for dinner. This time Keith didn’t want to sit on the couch pretending to be entertained by the TV. He was sick of staying still.

He wasn’t sure what had made him realize that. Being alone in a room wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. It hadn’t for most of Keith’s life, and he knew the reason why it was tormenting him now. He needed to start moving forward instead of being pulled back.

So he pulled himself to the kitchen and pretended that just walking to the cupboard wasn’t a huge first step. He went through ingredients they had. His mother was probably planning to just order fast food. If Keith had something made when she came home, she’d be impressed. She’d also be a little bit less worried.

He decided to make pasta. Boiling the water was easy enough. Keith took himself through the steps he knew by heart. He used to enjoy cooking. Well, he hadn’t at first, but it was turned into something relaxing.

Even as he tried to let the task absorb him, his mind pulled him back to years ago. He was sixteen and not as thin as he was now. When he was younger he liked to work out. Sometimes it felt like his body was the only thing that he had control over.

He was supposed to be at his current foster house, but they never seemed to notice the nights that he didn’t make it home. That shouldn’t have hurt since he didn’t give a damn about these people, but Keith was just so sick of people who were supposed to care about him forgetting he even existed. His act of rebellion was to stay out.

Most teenagers would use this new found freedom to do something reckless. Keith was fully aware of the things that his classmates involved themselves in, but he’d never seen the appeal of underage drinking or getting high in someone else’s backyard. He didn’t party or have people to party with.

So instead he would show up at Shiro’s apparent. Shiro was in college now, and was still the most capable person Keith knew. At first, Shiro would take him home at the end of the night, thinking that it was better for Keith to sleep under the roof of the house he was supposed to be living in.

However, the more Keith showed up, the more Shiro seemed to realize that it was easier for both of them if Keith crashed on his couch. Some nights, the bad ones, he wouldn’t even suggest giving Keith a ride back to his current house. This felt more like home than anywhere else he could be.

Keith remembered learning against Shiro counter as Shiro started making dinner for the both of them. He didn’t always have a stocked fridge, and more often than not the food he did have had been smuggled out of his school’s cafeteria. Tonight, however, Shiro had decided that they both deserved a real home cook meal. He also decided that it was about time Keith started learning how to fend for himself.

“I’ve been fending for myself since I was eight,” Keith told him dryly.

“I’ve seen your burn toast,” Shiro replied. “I think you’d starve to death in a house full of food.”

“That’s what I have you for,” Keith stated. “You can cook.”

“I’m not always gonna be around,” Shiro said.”

“Yeah right,” Keith laughed. “You going somewhere?”

“Maybe,” Shiro said pointedly. “You never know. Now listen, I want to to actually learn something this time.”

“Fine,” Keith rolled his eyes but decided to pay attention.

Shiro was a good teacher. Keith had a feeling that once he was ready to pick a career that was what he was going to settle on. That or a policeman, but Keith didn’t like that idea. Sure, he knew that Shiro would be good at the job—maybe too good—but the idea of him risking his life everyday didn’t sit well in Keith’s stomach.

Being a teacher meant that Shiro could do what he always did: look after people. Keith thought that it was just something in his nature. The only reason he was in Keith’s life to begin with was because of his need to do good. He had to protect the people he saw that needed him. Sometimes it was because he cared about them, but sometimes it was just because he cared.

Keith had trouble telling the difference. That had been hard at first. It made it difficult to tell if Shiro kept him around because they were friends or because Keith needed a friend. They might sound like the same thing, but they weren’t. Keith needed Shiro, but Shiro didn’t need Keith. That had also been hard at first. It had taken a long time for Keith to even admit that he needed anyone to begin with.

“Hey,” Shiro nudged him. “Focus, okay?”

“I am,” Keith protested.

“Right,” Shiro shot him an unconvinced look.

“I’m not lying,” Keith resisted the urge to cross his arms.

Recently he’d been trying to be less childish. Shiro said that the efforts weren’t needed, Keith only a little bit of time before he was an adult, he might as well enjoy it. Shiro didn’t understand that Keith already was an adult. He had been one for a long time and had never wanted to be, but that wasn’t something you could just go back from. Keith couldn’t reverse the lessons he’d learned.

Shiro didn’t know that right now. He would later.

“Fine, then tomorrow you’re cooking,” Shiro decided.

“Okay,” Keith took the challenge because he always took challenges. That was how he’d managed to get this far in his life.

Technically, Keith ended up cooking dinner this night as well. That was how Shiro taught. Instead of just explained things to Keith, he would put Keith right in the middle of something and guide him through. Keith liked that, he thought it was more excited. In the back of his mind, he imagined Shiro leading a class full of kids. It was a funny image and probably would be a little bit hectic, but Keith was certain that this was what lied in Shiro’s future.

He was wrong.

“See, it tastes better when you’ve made it yourself,” Shiro declared.

They were sitting on the couch now. Shiro rarely actually used his dining room table. They always ended up in front of the TV but not really paying attention to it. These moments were nice. They were the ones Keith missed when he hadn’t gotten a real family, or a real brother, or a real dad. Shiro had some how become both for him.

“Yeah,” Keith agreed. He didn’t mind cooking if Shiro thought it was a good idea.

Now it was different.

Keith pulled himself out of his head. This time he hadn’t burnt himself. That was progress, wasn’t it?

This was sad. He couldn’t function without something like this happening. Every time he tried to be normal, he ended up in his own past.

No, it was more like the past ended up around him. Shiro ended up with him, because in a way he still was. He was pressing into Keith’s brain even though he was gone. Keith couldn’t reach him, but he still wouldn’t leave.

It scared Keith. And he was pretty sure it scared Shiro too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back I got a but scared that I was writing Lance as a manic-pixie-dream-girl... Comments make me happy


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